


Candy Apples

by oksammich



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Boys Kissing, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Making Out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-23
Updated: 2013-05-23
Packaged: 2017-12-12 19:08:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/814984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oksammich/pseuds/oksammich
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The quiet moon suggested that it was getting nearer to midnight, which meant that Sandy would need to work soon. Funny, Jack didn't remember candied apples tasting so bitter. "The worst feeling in the world is being all alone in a crowded place."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Candy Apples

He was a busy guy with a whole lot of nothing to accomplish, so when Jack's brain finally settled down with his body, and he balanced his staff on his knees, his most striking epiphanies came down on him all at once.

Like, discovering Sandy liked him. Not "like" like (maybe), but "like", like.. Well. He wasn't sure. But Jack knew that Sandy liked him.

It happened in the western hemisphere, during some late autumn evening where he could only justify a bit of frost rather than an out-and-out blizzard. It was unseasonably warm, so the children of this quaint village were outside in their summer trousers and thin bonnets, some even frolicking in their bare toes. Theirs had been a good harvest, and it showed in the flushed faces and full bellies; even after a busy few weeks, the adults were in high spirits too. Jack's stomach growled in envy as the townsfolk finished off a delectable-looking feast.

He tried not to look to hard at the smiling faces, or the parents grabbing kids for a quick hug or scolding, or the barks of laughter, or the numerous other wonderful little things that humans tended to take for granted. Jack was no stranger to a good scolding, but when he was being reprimanded, he never saw that same look of affection in the eyes of a Yeti or a frozen-furred Pooka. Jack was concentrating so hard on Not Looking that he didn't even notice his guest until a tiny golden butterfly flitted into his peripheral vision. "Sandman!" he laughed, rubbing his forearm over his eyes (because he got sand in them. Really.).

His answer was just as he'd predicted; the tiny guy gave one of his wide grins, exposing the gap between his front two teeth. Sandy waved with both hands, which held a weird-looking apple in each, as he floated over the ground, radiating the same warmth and light that Jack's subconscious apparently longed for. He felt a lot better with the Dream-Giver beside him. He had to talk a little louder, as someone merrily sawed a fiddle somewhere nearby. "Kids are getting to bed late tonight, huh?"

Sandy shrugged with a mild-mannered raise of the eyebrows. He didn't seem to mind too much. Sitting beside him, Sandy was still a good head shorter--watching the pudgy thing out of the corner of his eye, he decided that the shortness made him all the more adorable. Every bit of him seemed innocent, right down to his tiny fingers and toes, but there were times when Jack looked into his face and was certain that Sandy was a lot older than even that Saint North guy. (That was an epiphany he'd had a few years before, when Sandy emerged from the room of a sick child and didn't smile.) He liked how soft and round Sandy was, and how he occasionally became airborne when deep in thought, like a balloon in the hand of an absent-minded child. To keep such a thing from happening now, he rested his elbow atop one small shoulder. 

Something round and sticky slid into Jack's hand. He turned it over to find a heavy red object glittering in the firelight, its glassy surface a little cracked where it had started to warm up in Sandy's fingers. "Candy apples? Where'd you get these?"

Sandy's dark eyes flicked to the side, Dreamsand pointing to a table full of desserts near the center of the festive town square. 

Laughing, Jack broke the thick surface with his teeth, then turned his head to gnaw off a nice portion. Candy apples were great, but not the easiest to eat. "You stole them!"

With a halo over his mop of golden hair, Sandy mockingly widened his eyes and shook his head in disbelief. 

"You just found them, huh?"

Beaming, Sandy crunched into his apple.

They chattered to each other with noisy bites of this sugar-laden treat (Tooth would be horrified. She always jiggled in fantastic places when she went into a lecture.). Sure, Jack couldn't talk to Sandy like somebody would talk to a normal person, but theirs weren't exactly normal circumstances. There was something Sandy's nearness provided that speech wasn't capable of. Jack summed it up to himself being more look-touch-feel than hear-talk-say. Without a word, Sandy could share his adventures and thoughts, worlds blooming under starlight and spreading out at his mere whim. With a flick of his wrist, he told Jack of cities so large that they grew up toward the sky, of hundreds of carriages linked together and moving without horses or oxen, of lights indoors. 

With his tongue, Jack rubbed the sweet coating against the roof of his mouth. He wasn't afraid of these things. Jack welcomed change, in fact! But he still found it hard to swallow his next mouthful of apple. 

Sandy tilted his head, withdrawing his golden world into one fat little fist. "Oh, no--it's all really neat, I just..."

He couldn't bear to look at the Sandman now. "If the cities get too big, more people will come out this way." Jack stood, tossing his apple core up and down. "And that's great, but... It gets old."

In the square, the children were beginning to slow down. The quiet moon suggested that it was getting nearer to midnight, which meant that Sandy would need to work soon. Funny, Jack didn't remember candied apples tasting so bitter. "The worst feeling in the world is being all alone in a crowded place."

He stood on one foot, staff against his shoulder. For as long as he could remember, he'd been like this: a breathing force of nature with no one to ask what he'd like to draw in the frost, no one to lament a long summer and short winter, no one to say they wished Jack Frost would come already. He could get away from it all in the untamed West. Maybe it was weird, but it was easier to manage being alone if he pretended that he really was the only person left on Earth.

"Sorry," he muttered, no longer having to speak up as the fiddle quieted to a familiar hymn. Near the middle of the square, a mother picked up her smallest child and held his slumbering cheek to her breast. "Look, I'll get out of your way. I know you have a lot of work to do." The apple core flew up and over the crowd of tired party-goers, where it smacked a big, knuckle-dragging-type guy (who shouted a downtrodden "oi!").

Jack scooped up his staff and set it on his shoulder. "I'll see you."

For someone of his girth, it was surprisingly easy to move Sandy. Jack barely felt the resistance against the hem of his tunic--he thought he'd snagged an immature thorn. When he turned to untangle himself, he saw that the thorn was no thorn, but instead five small fingers and a pudgy hand. His face was set in a childish, sulking frown. "What is it, Sandy?"

Sandy reached a little higher, this time grabbing Jack's arm with both hands. As soon as he had a grip, he pulled. Persistently. 

Jack couldn't hold back a laugh. "All right, all right!" He knelt down on one knee. "What?"

Sandy's hands were warm and sticky from sugar. They'd leave red-tinged prints on Jack's cheeks, no doubt, but Sandy seemed unconcerned. He was doing that thing again, looking so much older than Jack liked. His brown eyes were no longer dreamy and detached, but were dark with concern. 

Which was why he gasped like he did when Sandy kissed him.

It wasn't gentle at all. There was some sort of urgency that crushed Sandy's lips to his, and made the Dream-Bringer's tongue stroke his mouth with a delicate sweetness all his own. Sandy pulled back, forced Jack to look at him again, and began pointing.

Himself. His eye. Jack.

Dazed, Frost shook his head. "Wha-"

He was smothered by another mind-numbing kiss. 

Himself. His eye. Jack.

The sprite gaped like a fish out of water, which was a definite mistake. When Sandy lunged at him again, he took Jack's mouth with a terrifying ferocity. 

Himself. His eye. Jack.

It was like Sandy was screaming at him from far away. Heat stabbed down through his spine as those gentle hands fisted in his hair, and in his mouth, that tongue was--

Himself. His eye. Jack.

Jack dropped to both knees and tried to hold on. 

Himself. His eye. Jack.

His chest ached from holding his breath. That shouting wasn't shouting, but instead was the wet sound of their lips connecting and parting.

Himself. His eye. Jack.

Himself.

Sandy. Sandy himself.

-I-.

"You--" Jack gasped, body running so hot that he could barely keep his eyes open. He was rewarded with a gentler kiss this time, soft lips murmuring silent encouragement. 

Eye. He saw.

-See-.

"You see--" His words gave into strangled moans. Sandy was holding him. How was Sandy able to hold him up?

-I see you.-

"You see me."

Jack's eyelids drifted shut as the Dream-Bringer attacked his mouth again.

-I see you.-

"You see me."  
\------------

He woke to a bright blue sky and a strong Northern wind. Jack was reclined in a haystack he didn't remember climbing in, his cloak over his chest and staff held tight in his arms. The scent of smoke still lingered in the air, but it would fade with the crisp promise of approaching winter.

It took a few tries before he could sit up properly. When he finally managed, he stretched his arms high overhead and was satisfied by the resonating pops of his vertebrae. He'd slept hard.

Sandy had probably--

"Sandy?" 

Turning his head this way and that, he looked around for any sign of his friend. As usual, there were no cinnamon-and-sugar-colored puffs about, astride fluffy clouds and surrounded by fantastical, shimmering creatures.

Of course there wouldn't be. It was just a dream.

But Jack didn't lament long. When he climbed out and went to stand, his foot bumped one of those small things that humans so often take for granted:

An apple core laid on the ground, the ends covered in sugar and the last bite vanishing on golden sand.

**Author's Note:**

> Because there is significantly less Jack/Sandy than there should be.
> 
> And candy apples are great.


End file.
